Those sapphire eyes, bloodshot though they were, pierced through her. “Where, and on what side, I don’t know, but yeah.” He shoved a filthy hand through his hair, dislodging what had to be more glass dust. “I finished the ball one last night, but this one has been plaguing me for a while now. Until I know what goes in the center, it remains incomplete.”

She turned her attention back to the glass and metal ball. “What do you call that one?”

“What would you call it?”

Dear gods, she did not want to name who it was. Shane didn’t just create art. He created people, their essence flowing through the piece with shattering results. “Please don’t make me.”

His hand reached out to her, but he pulled back. “You know, Akane.”

She walked back to the jagged ball. “Do you know who she is?”

“Are you so sure it’s a she? It could be Oberon.”

She shook her head. “I know who this is, and I know what that figure represents. It’s a she.” She pointed back to the forlorn figure. “Just like I know who that is.” She shivered. “You’re playing with dangerous visions, Shane.”

“Playing? Like I have a choice in this? Unlike you, I don’t get to pick and choose what visions come to me. I just get to watch them come alive under my hands.” The water in his tiny bathroom started up, and it wasn’t long before a pair of damp arms circled her waist. “Akane. Do you know what happens if the figure falls?”

She closed her eyes, but when she opened them, somehow Shane had toppled the figure. Thanks to the way he’d constructed the ball, now the inside only reflected the jagged edges of the outside over and over until there was nothing left but chaos and death. The position of the figure’s arms when standing were perfect for a figure lying on the ground as well, and if that happened the world itself would be in danger. “Shit.”

“Yeah.”

“We should tell Robin.”

He turned her around, his big hands gentle. “Can you take a look for me? Maybe I’m missing something.” His eyes strayed back to the fallen figure before spearing into her once more. “If this can be avoided, it has to be.”

She sighed. “Do you know what happened the last time I tried to get a look at him?”

“No, what?”

She leaned against him, trusting him with her weight, for once not caring that her clothes would be covered in grime. She needed his strength after seeing those two pieces of art. “Once, a long time ago, I saw my mother talking to a pretty, pretty man.” His arms tightened and she wriggled in protest, turning once more to study the jagged ball. “So I wondered who that pretty man was, but my mother refused to tell me. So I opened my vision, because damn if someone was going to tell me that I couldn’t know something.” She ignored his belly laugh. “When I woke up, Robin Goodfellow—”

“Who was the pretty man, I presume?”

“Yup. He offered me a job.”

“Because he likes that kind of crazy, huh?”

She elbowed him, pleased when he gave a soft grunt. “Do you know who she is?”

“No, and that scares the shit out of me.”

“Why?”

“We can’t protect her if we don’t.” He touched one of the jagged edges, his blood welling up, red on silver. “If we don’t know…”

“The world will be awash in blood.”

“I think so.” His hand returned to her waist, cuddling her close. “I think this might be the one thing that could drive him to do something that would make Tunguska look like a cherry bomb.”

“Wonderful.” The 1908 explosion over the Tunguska region of Russia was had been horrific in its destruction. Scientists believed a meteor or comet fragment exploded roughly three miles above the spot that had been decimated, but there was no solid proof of what had happened. It had the impact of roughly ten to fifteen megatons of TNT. Nothing had survived intact. The fallout from that explosion was seen around the world. Strange light could be seen as far away as England, where people reported that it was bright enough to read the newspaper by. When an expedition was finally sent by the Russians in 1927, the pictures of the devastation had been humbling. And she knew for a fact the scientists had it wrong. No meteor had done that. Robin had, and to this day only two people knew why: High King Oberon and Robin himself. “We need to find out, then.”

“I’m thinking of calling your mother.”

She winced. “Please don’t.”

“She’s helped me before, when I couldn’t interpret a vision. How do you think I got her number?”

She sagged in his arms. “Please not my mom. Please?”

He picked her up like she actually was the dainty little human most people believed she was. His strength never ceased to amaze her…or turn her on. “Man up, Akane. World-wide destruction or talk to your mother.” When she didn’t answer right away, he shook her.

“What? I’m thinking about it.”

With a hearty laugh he carted her out of the studio and back to the tiny attached bedroom, her muttered curses drifting on the air around them.

A glowing pair of green eyes appeared next to one of the pedestals. They stared at the lone figure, waves lapping at its feet, before turning to the jagged ball of glass and metal. A black boot heel clacked on the concrete floor, and Robin Goodfellow materialized out of the nothingness to stare at the fallen figure. The words of the two hybrids echoed in his ears.

“Interesting.”

He lifted the small figure with a gentle touch and set it back on its feet. He caressed the side of that serene face with wonder, the metal and glass bending away from him to allow him the simple touch. He smiled, full of hope and anticipation the likes of which he hadn’t experienced in centuries. “I wonder who you are?”

Chapter Three

“Please.”

Akane rolled her eyes. He wasn’t going to give up, and she was beginning to understand that she really didn’t want him to. Still, it wouldn’t do to give in too easily. “Nope.”

Bleary blue eyes begged her to give in. “Please. I need.”

She sighed. “Fine.” Akane allowed some of her inner fire to seep below her skin, the pale human flesh taking on a reddish glow. “Lay down, and don’t say a single word.”

“But—”

“Ah!”

“But—”

“Shane.”

He pouted like a sulky, sick child. “Fine.” He flopped down face first on the bed, his broad, naked back daring her to lay hands on it. “Just…please.”

He’d showered once they’d reached the bedroom, removing the metal and glass from his hair and skin, changing into nothing more than a clean pair of silk boxer briefs that hugged every inch of him. His body was on display for her, his finest work of art, but he was so exhausted neither of them could truly appreciate it. His muscles were sore, burning from work at the forge, and he’d begged her for a massage.

Akane agreed only after acres and acres of prime real estate had walked out of his bathroom in nothing but his underwear. Damn, the man was fine.

She delicately perched on his ass and placed her hot hands right between his shoulder blades. His groan of appreciation was low and deep, sending shivers through her. Gods, she wanted this amazing man more and more all the time.

What was she going to do? If she allowed Shane any more leeway he’d truly Claim her. His Sidhe half would demand it the moment they had sex, and she wasn’t certain it was something he could prevent. Once Claimed, it wouldn’t be long before he spoke the Vows that would complete everything, Binding him to her through a display of power and ferocity only the Sidhe seemed to possess. Bands of light would surround him, lethal to any who dared approach him save his chosen mate. He’d speak the Vows, and once done, those bands of light would spear into her, binding their life forces together for all eternity. She’d watched as Duncan and Moira spoke their Vows to Jaden, gasped in delighted wonder at the display of power the two exposed in front of the entire Gray Court. Oberon himself had been there, a cold, perfect otherness that was in direct contrast to the warmth and love that surrounded the new Malmayne-Blackthorns.